


Shelter

by harrythepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beaches, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Post-War, Sharing a Bed, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 18:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrythepotter/pseuds/harrythepotter
Summary: the war is over, but there's still healing to be done. so, the trio slips away from the aftermath, taking up residence and hiding out at a black vacation home that harry inherited.but, healing may come in different ways than they're used to.





	Shelter

In the space between sleep and wakefulness, Harry could just make out Ron and Hermione's silhouettes on the rug in front of the fireplace. Their heads were bent together, shadows illuminated in the light of the crackling flames. He didn't move, not wanting the worn sofa underneath him to creak and alert them that he wasn't quite sleeping anymore.

(  _though, as his stomach gave a quiet gurgle of hunger, he wasn't quite sure how much longer he could keep the act up._  )

"We need to get away from here, Ron." Hermione was quietly saying, her fingers interlaced with Ron's as she tucked her legs up underneath herself. "I can see how much being here is grating on Harry."

"But we haven't anywhere to go, Hermione. They're going to be looking for us, and him, anywhere we try to hide." Ron replied, and Harry could almost imagine the expression upon his face, with his brows furrowed in concentration.

Harry pondered this as well. Where could they go? The public probably already knew about Grimmauld Place, so that seemed out of order. But he'd never really read over Sirius' will. Perhaps he'd been left another house. (  _that would certainly be a lovely coincidence, in the current circumstances._  )

"I think he's waking up." Hermione said in a small whisper, her head turning slightly to give Harry the side-eye, and that was when he realized he'd shifted unknowingly, in only the way an awake person could. "How're you feeling, Harry?"

"Better." Harry replied, stifling a yawn as he sat up, the blanket that had been previously covering him falling into his lap. "What were you two discussing?"

Like he didn't already know. But eavesdropping was a rude habit, and he wasn't going to admit to doing it. ( _though, it was a habit of his that'd earned him more information that others tried to hide away._  )

"Well, mate, we were talking about how we should probably get out of the limelight for a bit. But we haven't got a clue where we would go." Ron stretched as he got to his feet, helping Hermione up as well as they both came over.

"I think Sirius may have left me another place. A vacation home, I think, somewhere on a string of islands. Though, I'm not quite sure." Harry told them.

Hermione's eyes grew wide and round, and she quickly rummaged around in her bag, pulling out a shiny, old-looking key.

"I found this at Grimmauld Place, when we were there. I suspect it's a special kind of Portkey, but anyways-" Hermione took a deep breath. "This might be the key to that vacation home you were talking about! We should go there, I think."

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Ron agreed. "But shouldn't we tell everyone that we're going off somewhere, first? I know my mum'll get awful worried."

Hermione had a determined look on her face, shaking her head. "They don't need to know everything about our private lives. I think we should just go, and don't look back."

Harry was all for it, getting up off the sofa and shuffling closer to his two friends, taking the key from Hermione's hand.

"Yes." he said softly. "Let's."

\---

When Harry lands on a sandy beach, the soft rays of the sunset warming his back, he knows that this was the right choice. It's a secret paradise here, their own little island, and Harry silently thanks Sirius for all that he's done for him thus far.

"It's gorgeous!" Hermione said with a beaming smile, kicking off her shoes and wiggling her bare toes in the sand. "Oh, and look at the sea! I've never seen water that blue."

"I have to admit, this was a pretty brilliant plan." Ron grinned, doing the same. "Aah. I could get used to this."

"I think we should go check out the house, yeah?" Harry suggested, making his way across the beach towards the large vacation home, which had a few cabanas scattered here and there.

Inside the house was just as marvelous as the outside, with a spacious den and comfortable furniture scattered about. The kitchen was quite large too, and there was even a sunroom overlooking the beach. Upstairs, there were a few separate bedrooms, a luscious bathtub and shower in the bathroom, and a library, which Hermione immediately went over to browse.

"Look at all this! It's like a five-star hotel." she said happily, her fingers dragging along the spines of the books. "My goodness, why haven't we ever known about this place?"

"I never bothered to look, I guess." Harry said sheepishly. "But hey, we know now, don't we? I think we're going to have a nice time here."

"Well, I've got first dibs on the bathroom. I've been feeling a bit grimy." Ron announced, then went off into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, the sound of the shower spray coming on a few minutes later.

Harry, meanwhile, went to wander back downstairs. Hermione seemed set with her books, so maybe he could make them something to eat. He didn't know about the others, but he was starving.

All of the food in the pantry seemed to have Preservation Charms on them, which was a good thing. That meant that they wouldn't have to go out to buy food for a long while. Harry shut his eyes and took a deep breath, his lips pressed together in a straight line as he ran fingertips along the marble surface of the counter. (  _the war is over, stop your fretting._ )

Ron's singing in the shower upstairs, and a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, fondly remembering how Ron had that habit ever since first year. Some of the other boys had joined in, sometimes, when they were all sharing the large bathroom, and Seamus had always jokingly suggested they join the frog choir. 

Hermione's probably curled up in one of the overlarge armchairs in the library, a thick volume in her small hands as she devoured the words on the pages. She was never without a book in her hand, or her bag, and it's comforting to Harry to know that neither of them have really changed much.

As Harry decides that he'll make a simple dinner of spaghetti for the three of them, he realizes that there's nowhere ( _and nobody_ ) that he'd rather be (  _or be with_  ) to do his healing after the war. 

Hopefully he hasn't changed too much as well.


End file.
